FateAvalanche - The Legend of the Traveler
by DAWNWRIGHTER
Summary: The forgotten legend and adventuresnof Percy the Traveler is told here if the best possible format ever! FANFICTION! Celtic/Greek 3/4th demigod Percy! OCC-Percy! Expect to see some familiar faces!


**(AN) I don't own any works of Rick Riordan, or Type-moon. (which you could consider this fic a crossover of sorts with the Nasuverse)**

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"Talking"

' _Thinking_ '

" **Raging!"**

" _ **Beasting**_ "

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(Prologue) - A Meeting Between Two People (Part 1) - South Eastern Gaul, Autumn, 105 BCE

A fierce blizzard was raging across the fields and forests of southern Gaul, burying alive was once only a day ago a cool calm autumn. The blizzard so blinding and thick it was almost like looking at the sun.

The only sight of color in this world of white it seems was the bright red almost glowing blood trail and the slightly darker indentations of foot tracks in the snow. A man was walking through the snow collapsing to his knees every few feet in sheer pain and exhaustion. The man had no idea how long or where he was walking to, all the man knew was if he had stayed on that doomed battlefield somewhere miles behind him he would die and not reform.

For this man was not just merely a man, he was a god.

"Hmm, Interesting~~~" Mused out loud said a beauty of a woman. Said woman was looking into what looked like a mirror showing the man. ' _No…. a god_ , a weak one but still' The woman was very intrigued. She had sent that blizzard to kill off the survivors of the roman armies that had been sent to destroy two local tribes that had occupied the shore of the river called Arausio. There was supposed to be no survivors of the armies native or not. It was so bad she doubted a weak god like the one she was looking at would survive.

Obviously she had no ill will against the native tribes there but she had a grudge against against the general of the Roman armies, so she had decided on making him and his men suffer low on food, battle fatigued, and now freezing to death.

' _Serves him right! Refusing to be apart of my beautiful collection!? Even after I let his men through MY mountains?'_

The woman swept her hand across across the mirror, the image on the man disappearing. She turned around and started walking toward the entrance of her home.

And what a home it was.

Her house was designed as a traditional wealthy Roman villa, but the walls was all white with ice crawling along the walls and ceilings making dynamic intricate designs as she walked by. Along the hallways were what looked like statues so realistic in design it would give that dead Medusa a run for her money. But in Khione's own opinion she herself was obviously superior.

She had reached the entrance to her home and simply opened the door and stepped outside, showing the shining peaks of the Alps. The moment the snow outside touched her skin her body dissolved into snow and floated away in the wind.

' _Maybe I might get a new sculpture after all?_ '

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The river god Arausio was having a very, very bad day. The day was going wonderful at first as well, which made it all the worse when he got stabbed by a spear in the gut with some sort of poison on it during the battle, and let me tell you I wished I was mortal at that moment when the adrenaline wore off and my body finally felt the poison.

It was the worse thing I have ever experienced in my many thousands of years of living.

Not to mention it smelt awful. So awful in fact that when many of my worshipers who tried to help address my wound could barely last a minute in my presence. But the struggled seemed for naught because the wound refused to heal. My natural healing abilities had no effect, the army's druids healing magic didn't work, and no amount of mundane means stopped the bleeding.

Then death came.

A wall of winter smashed into the camp unexpectedly and without warning. Proud, strong, veteran Gaulish warriors froze solid in a matter of seconds. Wise, kind, and friendly druids were not spared of such a fate as well.

In a matter of minutes I was the only living being in the several thousand man army that had just recently routed the twin Roman armies in the battle, that my men had called it "The Battle of Arausio".

I immediately knew I couldn't stay here, or I would share the fate of my comrades for I was losing blood quickly.

'I need to go North West." I told myself borderline delirious due to the pain of the poison. So I looked for the biggest tent for north was in the direction it was facing. I found it after a couple minutes and started heading in a 45 degree angle left from that point. Eventually the camp disappeared in the blinding white and he trekked alone in the cold.

Never knowing that the tent he was looking for blew away in the sudden storm, and that he was in fact going the exact opposite way.

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(AN) First chapter guys! Hope you guys enjoy it! And if you have any questions review!


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